For The Love of Peace
by kura-wolfgoddess
Summary: Aspiring to be a nurse, Berwald moves to Finland and meets Tino. Is ignorance really bliss, or will Tino's criminal identity end in the Swede's death? Sufin. Rating may go up.
1. Fateful Footsteps

Hello everyone! I hope you like this story ._. At this point I don't have much to say other than the fact that I most obviously don't own Axis Powers Hetalia.

A heads up not sure about this yet, but the rating may go up.

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><p>Snow drifted down to blanket the bustling city of Tampere, the setting sun peeking out just long enough to highlight an arc of twinkling flakes. A tall blond bespectacled man gazed up at the display, ice blue eyes marveling at its beauty. Since moving from reserved Leksand in Sweden, Berwald Oxenstierna found himself enthralled by the simple beauties of the big city he now called home.<p>

He found the throngs of people fascinating despite their obvious avoidance of him. It seemed that no matter where he traveled, his face was still the bane of his social existence. Despite that, Berwald was convinced that he could pursue the occupation of his dreams. He knew it wasn't what people typically associated with him, he knew it wasn't the orthodox profession most men in his town desired, but he wanted to be a nurse.

He dabbled in learning about almost all aspects of medical science, but rather than becoming a specialist of some import or a world renowned doctor, Berwald just wanted to make the day for a sick patient, cheer up an ill child, or encourage a smile from a terminal patient.

In order to accomplish that he had set a rigid routine of studying. His personal library, of which he was deeply proud, consisted almost entirely of medical research, and it was ever growing.

Even now Berwald found himself hunting for a quaint little bookstore, a nice place to relax and maybe enjoy a steaming cup of coffee while browsing for new knowledge. Emil, his lone friend who had moved to Stockholm around the time Berwald had moved to Tampere, often joked that the Swede had an insatiable thirst for intellect, and he was right. Though the quiet giant generally preferred science, there was nothing he didn't want to learn about.

He started a steady gait, neck craned and head shifting left and right, searching for the perfect place to hole up for the evening. Ah! There! Akateeminen kirjakauppa*, while it wasn't the mom and pop store he had originally been searching for, the vast book collection he espied even from the street practically had him salivating.

Berwald entered the store, a bundle of excitement knotted itself in his stomach, which he of course alleviated with a caffeinated beverage of his choice, purchased from the Robert's coffee* shop located in the store. The Java Estate was practically a taste of home and heaven.

Berwald's gaze shifted from shelf to shelf, eyes absorbing the impressive display with a hunger previously unknown to him.

_Hn, this might just take longer than one night._

_Inquisitive  
><em>

Tino Väinämöinen cheerfully waved at the Russian man before him, Ivan Braginsky, a man he was told that he should avoid fucking with if he valued his life. Tino supposed that meant he was suicidal.

"Ivan! It is good to see you."

The violet eyed man indulged the_ smaller_ violet eyed man with a slightly less than creepy grin that he bestowed upon lesser subordinates.

"Ah, Tino, we are here to talk business, da?"

Tino nodded, "Yes, I have a few questions regarding your methods of dealing with my men."

"They were clearly infringing on my territory, surely you can agree their punishment was well deserved."

"If by 'punishment' you are referring to how you sent their dismembered limbs to their family members, then I have to ask, who were you really punishing?"

The smaller man narrowed his eyes minutely, gaze raking the tall Russian with something akin to reproach, like a parent coaxing the truth of who _really_ drew rainbows on the white leather coach. Ivan returned the gaze, having the gall to look almost sheepish.

"You know how things are, sometimes my men get a little over zealous, can you blame them for wanting to have a bit of fun?"

The Finn's welcoming smile sharpened into something a bit less...benevolent.

"Actually, I can and I do. Feliks, can you bring in Mikhail?"

Tino watched the flitting emotions on Ivan's face, a sense of satisfaction bubbling up inside him at the furious fear that flashed briefly in those amethysts. His cross dressing accomplice entered the room, towing a trembling Russian, his fingers entwined non-too-gently in wheat colored locks, painted nails peeking out from behind a few blood crusted strands.

"Well finally, this guy's like, totally lame. No fun at _all_, gives in at like, even the _thought_ of pain."

The whimpering man attempted to cast a pleading glance upon the Russian boss, but had his head twisted roughly back by those pink fingernails. Tino leveled his gaze at his opponent.

"Ivan, let me make a few things clear. This is Finland my favored country, my place of birth, home of my heart. This is Tampere, city of my origins as a member of the 'family'. I own these streets and every criminal that saunters on them. I mete out punishment here, no one else. I decide what is humane treatment and what is not. What your men did to mine is not. Be grateful that what I'm about to do is more humane than the fate my men suffered at your extended hands."

And just like that any pretense of a smile fell from Ivan's lips.

"Tino you don't have to-"

"Braginsky, I don't think you're in a position to tell me what I _can_ and _cannot_ do."

Tino turned and grabbed a fistful of Mikhail's hair, signaling for Feliks to release him. The man stumbled forward, practically falling into Tino's lap, which muffled his pathetic mewling.

"Oh hush love, hush. You won't have much to cry about for very long."

Ignoring the others present in the room, Tino caressed those wheat colored locks, shushing the man as a mother would a newborn babe, his gentle voice belying his true intentions. He tugged gently upwards on the Russian's head, purposefully meeting his frightened gaze. One deceptively delicate finger rose to swipe away the single tear that traced a path down that pale, pale face.

Tino pulled Mikhail flush against him, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of his head, appearing not to mind the flakes of dried blood that drifted away at the touch of his lips. He hummed and tenderly rocked the Russian criminal in his arms.

"See how gentle I am with him, Ivan? You should learn from this."

A thin veil of confusion coated those amethyst eyes, suspicion swirling deep within them.

And he was right to be apprehensive.

In an instant the Finnish man had drawn a gun from within his tailored jacket, allowed the muzzle to kiss the bottom of Mikhail's skull for just an instant before he pulled the trigger.

_City Matron_

Words leaped from the pages and lodged themselves into Berwald's brain as he poured through book after book, eyes never pausing to rest for even a moment. This was nirvana, the most peaceful state he had ever experienced in his entire life, bliss seemed to float in the atmosphere and curl about the Swede's shoulders like a lover's embrace.

Few people had bothered him, but he doubted that few people _could_ bother him in the entranced state he was in. This place was much better than the local library, not to demean the value or the historical significance of the place, but oddly enough Berwald found himself hard pressed to find a truly quiet niche there. The intense Finnish winter encouraged people to cozy up inside rather than bundle up out.

Sipping from his now lukewarm coffee, the blond allowed his gaze to wander from the pages spread before him and along the many shelves and various individuals who browsed them, intent expressions betraying a need for some specific material. But there was one man, who unlike the others, seemed to hold very little interest in the books. Like Berwald, he sipped a cup of Robert's coffee, intelligent eyes peeking out at the other patrons.

_He's looking for something...but not a book. Someone perhaps?_

The tall Swede felt his heart stop as those innocent, violet eyes fell on him, a sharp inhalation of breath betraying his surprise.

_He's beautiful..._

_Enraptured  
><em>

Tino ambled on down the streets of Tampere, the very same streets that he had claimed absolute ownership of not two hours earlier. If he could, Tino would very much like to protect them without resorting to violence, but he couldn't see any other way to get his point across. He had tried ever other trick in the book that he could plausibly use against other invading mafias, but nothing quite hit home like a slug* to the skull.

He frowned, that still didn't make it right. Perhaps if Mikhail and his accomplices hadn't treated Tino's men so horribly, perhaps if they hadn't tortured them extensively and tormented the minds of their loved ones, then perhaps Tino would have been merciful, but as it was he didn't even feel a drop of remorse. Not even a twinge.

How could he? Should he have just let _karma_, such a slow moving force if it existed at all, deal with those monstrosities, thereby allowing them to commit more unforgivable atrocities? Tino didn't think so.

At least he could take comfort in the fact that he would never stoop so low as to torture another human being, innocent or not. Well, physically at least. He supposed the teasing and waiting that Mikhail had to endure had been akin to a sort of torture.

The Finnish man sighed, tired of thinking such troublesome thoughts.

_Keep it up and you'll get crows feet at twenty five._

He glanced up at the name of the shop his emotionally exhausted feet had carried him to, Akateeminen kirjakauppa.

_Fateful Steps_

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><p>Footnotes and other such things:<p>

Akateeminen kirjakauppa*- a popular bookstore chain in Finland

Robert's coffee-one of the most widespread coffee chains in the Nordic countries, which of course includes both Sweden and Finland

slug* to the skull-slug is another term for bullet

Yeah so, I know this chapter was rather short, but I'm just trying it out to see what kind of response I get to it. I promise any following chapters will be longer and more in depth. Think of this as a sort of prologue-ish chapter.

Hope you enjoyed!

~Kura


	2. Honesty Is Everything

This chapter's a tad fluffy

I know the first chapter is already done, but please suspend your disbelief and go along with the notion that Finland has its own mob, that's _not_ the same as the Russian mob. **Thanks for the love the last chapter received.** **I'm really super sorry that it has taken so long to update, this shouldn't be too much of an issue anymore.** I had a huge ass project due last week and it ate all of my creative time. The worst kind of om nom nom noms. I really want to shoot for at least one chapter a week, and hopefully more.

Disclaimer: In all my years of writing ff, I still don't own anything. Damn.

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><p>Tino allowed the cozy atmosphere of the bookstore to envelope him in a layer of calm. He needed it. Lavender eyes espied a Robert's coffee in the front corner; could there be a more perfect beverage than the Nordic elixir of caffeine? He approached the counter without his usual cheerful smile, Tino didn't think he had the energy or the heart to summon it. He ordered and collected the drink, savoring the warmth that his hands leeched from the cardboard cup. He cuddled the drink, worshiping his only lifeline to sanity (though some may argue it was already a moot point).<p>

Eyes closed in relish, he embraced each drop, ecstasy on his tongue. Violet eyes slowly slid open to peer over the lid, connecting almost immediately with the piercing ice blue gaze of an enormous man, who while sitting was about Tino's height with a couple of centimeters stacked on. The Finn narrowly avoided choking on the hot liquid in shock.

_Perkele, he's an intimidating looking guy! Did Ivan send him after me?_

The man in question returned Tino's gaze longer than a casual bystander might, his face seemingly carved from stone for all the genial emotion is betrayed.

_If he's an agent, he's not trying for inconspicuous_.

A beat passed in which the two men locked gazes until the seated gentleman/possible spy looked away, a light blush staining his cheeks and burning his ears.

_Whaa...? Is he...? Oh..._OH!

Heat flooded to Tino's own cheeks as he realized the implications of the tall man's reaction.

_You know Tino, sometimes people are just ordinary people, doing ordinary things like visiting bookstores and sneaking glances at crushes. Not that he's much good at the sneaky part._

The self-chastened Finn looked away, his thoughts only highlighting the impossibility of entertaining such a crush.

Not that he had one or anything.

Tino stole another "casual" glance at the seated blond while he maneuvered himself toward an empty table just a few shelves away from him. He then proceeded to peek "unobtrusively" from behind the first book within reach of his fingers.

He noted with some trepidation that those blue eyes remained trained directly on him, only straying to follow the movements of his fluttering hands that fiddled with various knick knacks on the table. It was disconcerting how with every upward flick of his amethysts he met the oddly stern, yet smitten cool baby blues. Tino found himself steadily shrinking behind the knowledgeable _Guide On Peeling Onions and How To Avoid Conflicts That May Arise While Doing So_. He finally retreated behind the illustrated pages to regroup and get his own flushed cheeks under control. Lashes fluttered briefly to hide excited violet.

_Breathe Tino. In. Out. In. Ou_-

A small undignified squeak of surprise escaped his startled lips at the obvious invasion of space he was experiencing.  
>A hand rested on his shoulder, sitting there for longer than a casual passerby.<p>

The seconds ticked by without movement, the Finn shying away from eye contact like straight guys in locker room showers. Gathering courage from the same iron core that allowed him to kill without sympathy, he managed to incline his head to meet the same piercing blue that had been hunting him from across the room.

"C-can I help you?"

The intensity of the gaze focused upon him burned holes of apprehension into Tino's brain.

"B'k's ups'd d'n."

_What?_

"What?"

"Y'r b'k. It's ups'd down," the strong influx placed on 'down' told Tino that the man was trying hard to be comprehensible.

_My, what a strong accent. I wonder where it's from...wait did he say my...my book's...upside down?_

The Finn wanted to pound his face into the desk until the line between flesh and grain ended.

_Oh_,_ perkele*_! Here he had been concerned that this handsome foreigner was checking him out, and really he had just been making a complete and total fool of himself. He spared the onion tome a disgusted glare as if it was the cause of his life problems, a growing list, before looking back at the stranger.

"Oh-ah, thank you." Tino attempted to force a sheepish yet appreciative grin onto his face, but had a feeling it was more of a self-deprecating grimace.

_I guess today is just one of those days._

.:pov:.

He latched onto those wide, innocent eyes hungry for the light that emanated from them.

_How gorgeous!_

Berwald mentally groaned, imagining those eyes gazing up at him in wicked sexual abandon.

_Whoah. Where did that come from?_

It was true that with all of his studies, the Swede _may_ have been neglecting certain _personal_ areas of his life, but that didn't mean he should have urges to jump the first cute guy to cast his pretty eyes on him. And damn were they pretty, outlined with long elegant lashes, lashes that Berwald would like to feel kiss his lashes in question hid those startling eyes, cast off to the side in an adorably shy manner.

Perhaps his own eyes were a bit too predatory. A soft rosy blush suffused pale cheeks, and Berwald could feel that his own must be a similar shade. How could they not be, what with the more explicitly exciting images slipping through his crumbling mental barriers of innocence.

Under the scrutiny of his gaze, the adorable man sat himself at a table, snatching a book up to hide behind. Berwald noticed with mild amusement that it was upside down, and of course how could he miss the quick glances "snuck" from the corners. He continued to stare, captivated by the sweetly shy expressions running across his face.

Should he embarrass him more by telling him about the book, or should he savor that honeyed countenance?

Decisions, decisions.

In the end, the Swede's conscious won the battle, and he stretched out those long legs of his, taking the few short strides it took him to reach the other's table. He stretched out a hand and rested it as gently as he could manage on the small man's shoulder, instantly feeling the wave of anxiety that passed through him, his muscles rippling beneath Berwald's hand as they tensed.

A beat passed before the darling (Seriously _darling? _When did he get this sappy?) man even deigned to acknowledge his presence. Berwald stared into tremulous violet, wanting to fall into a puddle of cooing goop.

"B'k's ups'd d'n," was what he said instead.

Confusion welled up in those eyes, blinking once.

"What?"

A new frustration of Berwald's was his thick accent. In Sweden he needn't worry about it, but his Finnish was garbled and barely decipherable. He concentrated on the desired words, little crinkles sketched themselves on his thoughtful forehead.

"Y'r b'k. It's ups'd down."

"Oh-ah, thank you," the smile that pulled at the obviously native Finn's lips, no matter how timid, still coaxed somersaults from Berwald's heart. He nodded in response, not trusting his mutinous lips to spew something stupid onto this little treasure, but if he didn't say something soon he would be out of excuses to explain his continued presence.

"D' ya l'ke on'ns?"

What was that about not saying something moronic?

_Real smooth Berwald._

Thankfully, the Finn seemed to think he was being a smartass rather than a dumbass and despite neither one being his preferred first impression, he couldn't help but be thankful that his face hadn't become intimately acquainted with a _Guide To Peeling Onions_. Indeed, the violet eyed man seemed somewhat amused, his tinkling laugh a concerto of relief for Berwald.

.:pov:.

Tino took a moment to interpret the other's foreign influenced Finnish, before breaking out into the most _un_intimidating fit of giggles he could remember ever having.

Criminal or no, he knew when to admit defeat.

"No, actually I despise them. I suppose I look a tad silly don't I?" A graceful silver brow arched upwards as if to say, _I'm perfectly aware I made a fool of myself and I accept your teasing words in goodwill_.

Tino nearly started in surprise at the ghost of a smile that flickered to life on the tall man's face.

And just like that the amicable criminal wanted very much to give logic the finger and ask this gentle giant out, perhaps for a cup of coffee which would _perhaps_ lead to something _else_.

He nearly did, and would have, if his obnoxiously loud ringtone hadn't sliced through the affable atmosphere like whetted blades through flesh.

Tino scrabbled for the phone, fumbling it three times before successfully flipping it open. He brought it to his ear, naturally averting his eyes from the handsome gent before him.

"Hello?" A soft whisper was a lion mating call in the hushed bookstore.

"Hey boss! I think that, like, you might want to come and take a look at this."

"Does it have to be now?"

"Well, I mean, not like _now_ now, but you might wanna be interested in it sometime _soooon_," Feliks' singsong voice floated through the receiver and out into the open air. The cross dresser only ever got this excited about 'family problems' that were mysteries wrapped in mysteries and reduced to ash by fire.

Which meant that Tino had best haul his ass back to the office and take a few preventative Tylenol.

He sighed.

"Alright, don't get your panties in a twist. I'll be right over."

The Finn offered an apologetic smile to his prospective date.

_I'd rather take care of_ business _with you, handsome, but unfortunately work beckons. Hopefully I won't have to kill anyone, the day has been long enough as it is._

"Sorry, but I have to get back to work. It was nice talking to you!"

The blond foreigner nodded, the slight smile snuffed out. Uncomfortable with the lead weight of guilt heavy in his stomach, Tino made a rare move to initiate contact, placing a gentle hand on the other's chest for a split second. The man gazed down at the violet eyed man, his own eyes softening, consuming Tino's contrite expression.

He nodded in what the Finn assumed was agreement, and the small man scurried off, cradling his hand, savoring the other man's heat.

Now more than ever he wished fervently that he would not have to play as executioner tonight.

He'd hate to ruin that honest warmth.

.:pov:.

"Sorry, but I have to get back to work. It was nice talking to you!"

Talking? That was more an exchange of gestures than an exchange of words.

_Well at least they weren't rude gestures._

Despite his thoughts, Berwald couldn't help but let a cloud of gloom amass at the back of his mind. He wouldn't call this rejection per se, but without a number shoved deep in his pockets, the Swede wasn't about to turn away from the facts. Who works at seven o'clock at night anyway?

He sighed, watching the silver haired beauty run out of his life.

Eyes lazily returning to the table he had emptied, books still askew on it, he decided that he couldn't possibly resume his studies productively. He straightened the desk and followed in the smaller man's footsteps out the door.

The tall blond arrived back at his apartment having experienced a far less leisurely walk than when he left it. Feet tramping across the wooden floorboards, hands tugging at winter garments, Berwald made his way across the living area, throwing his jacket, scarf, and gloves back in the general direction of the coat rack, too tired to care much about organization. The big man halfheartedly attempted to straighten the kitchen, but thankfully gave up when his cell vibrated against the granite counters, sliding around like it was possessed.

The LED screen framed a displeased young man, a silver fringe highlighting smoldering eyes.

"Hej* Emil," Berwald subconsciously reverted back to his native tongue, a spark of relief evident in his sagging shoulders at the notion of speaking with a close friend.

"Hej. You sound glum."

The Swede silently marveled at his friend's ability to perceive a mood from two little words.

"A bit."

"...Are you going to tell me what happened or must I make the trip over there to beat it out of you. I'll require my own bedroom, and don't serve me anything _cheap_ while I'm over either," the words dripped acidic disdain.

A small smile tugged like a pleading child at the corners of Berwald's mouth.

"No Emil, that won't be necessary. I just had a disappointing day is all."

"Disappointing? How so?"

Berwald exhaled heavily through his nose.

"I was unable to get everything I wanted at the bookstore."

"Uh-huh."

...

"There's more to it than that, Ber."

_Damn._

Another sigh. He picked up a few glasses from the drying rack and began to put them away.

"Ber-"

"I almost got this guy's number," he cut off Emil's warning laden words.

"Ahhh. Why the almost?"

"He got a phone call," Bewald slammed the door of the cabinet.

"Hmm. If you're this upset, then I'm sure he was awfully cute-"

_You have no idea._

"-cute enough to kidnap, I'm sure."

Berwald rolled his eyes, despite knowing full well that his long distance companion couldn't see it.

"I'm _not_ going to resort to criminal activity to get a boyfriend."

"Chloroform is a great matchmaker! Its somewhat of a blind date for the other person, but I'm sure he'll come to love you with time," Emil ignored the interruption.

...

"Ber?"

"Emil, I'm not doing that."

"Why not?"

"I already told you, that's a crime and-"

"That's never stopped you before."

_"And_ I want him to actually like me for me, and when have I _ever_ broken the law to get a date."

"..."

"That doesn't count."

"Whatever you say. Besides this sounds like its serious, or like you _want_ it to be serious."

"Yeah, look its getting late-"

"And you want to avoid awkward conversations, yeah I know."

...

"Good night Berwald."

"You too."

Berwald stared at the still glowing phone in his hand, pondering the short conversation and all of its implications. As per usual, Emil had cut straight to the point, dutifully checking up on his best friend. The Swede loved his friend, who was more of a brother than anything else, all of him, even his politically incorrect humor.

_But you know he was only half joking, if that._

Berwald 'hmm'ed in acknowledgment of his thought. He went back to cleaning before settling himself at the desk for another lonely round of studying.

The phone's glow snuffed out mere minutes after blue eyes slid shut for the night.

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><p>I hope you enjoyed the second chapter! I know, I know, nothing too eventful happens but it should start picking up in he next. Some very important hints were dropped in this chapter, and I'm warning you that's the last of those I'm giving out. -shakes finger- Sorry that this chapter took so long, but real life comes at you fast. The next chapter shouldn't take so long to update.<p>

Translation: Hej:Swedish for hey, its pronounced the same way too.

_perkele_: Finnish for dammit


	3. Only a Fool

I think it's clear a bi-polar person wrote this...but I don't really feel like changing the mood of the writing. Ehh ^^; (its funny how you think I'm kidding)

**I would also like to apologize for the shitty writing and editing this story has previously shown. I would like to up the quality of it** now that I'm actually spending time on it. Sooo yeah, before I was writing this story and three others at the same time and then I had a bunch of drama with crazy family members and family members in hospitals and crazy family members with family members in hospitals(don't ask) and it was all rather ugly + school projects= no writing getting done. And then I was just lazy and didn't feel like writing and couldn't summon enough energy to care about this story. Now I have a huge burst of writing inspiration, but still have a lot of summer work to do. I will find time to write, ok? And I'd like to point out that(if you're still reading this) the only reason** I haven't completely forgotten/abandoned this story is due to the amount of people who have been favoriting and adding it to their alert list (or whatever that's called). Thanks guys, you da best,** therefore you get kudos and shout outs and **I'll certainly be willing to listen to any suggestions you have for this story, or inspirations for other stories if you're too lazy to write it yourself**.(I always say wouldn't if be great if there were more stories about_) I'll write those stories,cuz that's how I roll.

Thanks for the **faves**, lovelies ^_~:

**Yaoi4596**

MyRainbowRoses

**shinyglaceon1234**

Endova Elixabete

**PrudenceArcadia**

Maria Combeferre

Thanks for the **Subscriptions**, sexies :P (and sorry you had to wait so long for an update)

**Yaoi4596**

Endova Elixabete

**AngelKittyofLove**

Maria Combeferre

**RawrGodzirra**

WRITING IS TIRESOME YEAH (btw nice screen name, do I sense some frustration?)

**scousefreckles**

RosewrappedinLace

**aniloverji12**

Also a **special shoutout** for:

**Yaoi4596**-you've already been included on the list, but your flattery did not end there, you even added me to your fave author list -beams- and author subscription. You made my day! :)

**RawrGodzirra**: Thanks so much for your review! Usually I get back to reviewers directly through PM, but even if I did here's another shoutout. I didn't really fulfill the soon part, but here's more

**some1:** I'm glad you enjoy that Tino is a criminal, though I don't quite see where you're coming from with the role reversal. Thanks so much though, especially for taking time to review

**UrsulaP**: First, I want to thank you for defending my version of Tino from that other reviewer. Second, thank you for pointing out a favorite part, I do love both criticism and kudos.

**Anony**: While I thank you for pointing out flaws, and the first two chapters are certainly full of them (they are rather half-assed), I am a tad disappointed that you would judge so quickly, love. Anyway, you prove an interesting challenge and if you ever get around to seeing this story again in your anonymous state, I hope I will change your mind.

ALSO: please let me rant about this. If you know my other story **Well Fuck: A Series of Shitty Events, you may or may not have noticed something. It's gone.** Ffn was all "hey! That titles not rated g BAM we gon' take that bitch down!" So that's what they did. **I can't repost it either** because I have no other copy of it. If you're like me and you thought the regulations were self explanatory and didn't think that profanity in a title automatically made it" illegal" to post unless it was rated M (yes, I rated it T, but even then profanity in titles will result in the story being taken down) **then heed this as a long winded warning, **_**it will be removed**_. So even if your content is not M, but your title has profanity in it, just rate it M and be done with the issue. I understand that that little mistake was all on me, because I didn't read all of the rules and regulations, but I have to say...who is getting on that is under the age of say...13? I think 13 year olds these days can handle seeing profanity and not automatically start repeating it. Its this thing called self control, have some? Also did you know that ffn is called the internets largest porn site (in writing)? Fun fact that amused me on the bus the other day. So really ffn...what the fuck?

That was a long rant (please note the **bolded=reader's digest version)** now have a disclaimer, **I do not own the characters or plot of axis powers hetalia,** just the crummy plot of this story that exists for little more than my own amusement in math class, and for whatever kicks you little kiddies get out of it (but seriously **if you are a little kiddy give your nerdy mom's/sibling's/babysitter's smartphone back to them**).

* * *

><p>Shocked mauve stared blankly at the neat handwritten calligraphy script, no longer taking in each precise loop and line, violet ink blurring as his intense gaze burnt holes in the paper.<p>

_Tino Väinämöinen,_

_As a fellow of similar status I humbly ask for your express permission to court you. I feel that such a union would be beneficial to the both of us and our empires._

_Iskrenne*,_

_Ivan Braginsky_

Short and rather un-sweet, indeed it accurately reflected the Russian man's personality.

...

"Feliks...when did this...arrive?" The question was merely inquisitive, with soft undercurrents of tightly contained fury.

"Like, an hour ago or something like that," the blonde waved a dismissive hand, "Come on boss, you can't possibly expect me to keep track of these things."

Blond locks framed lips twisted upward in a positively devious smirk. Clearly, the effeminate man was getting a high heeled kick out of Tino's building outrage.

"And what's this about _empires?_ I don't rule an _empire _and neither does he. I simply take care of this city the best way I know how! I do what I do out of _love_! He shouldn't have sway over Tampere, he _couldn't_ give a flying _fuck _about this city_ or_ it's inhabitants! Power is all that selfish _bastard_ wants."

The native Finn's eyes narrowed as his loud-mouthed tirade ebbed into solid sentences of cold determination. Ivan Braginsky would have something else coming to him if he seriously thought Tino would accept such a ludicrous offer.

"You know Ti, a _strong_, gorgeous man like that could be manipulated into a top of the line asset," the cross-dresser's valley girl accent melted away, leaving a rich conspiratorial purr humming in Tino's ear. Amethysts widened substantially, dark pupils dilating in a mixture of surprise and distaste. Silver whirled about to face gold.

"_Feliks_, have you learned nothing of the beast throughout our _strictly_ professional dealings? He cannot be gentled; it would be preferable to put a bullet between his eyes rather than unleash the menace upon polite company let alone society. And you think that I would want to entertain _that_ in my bed? There are other ways to remove an obstacle."

Tapering fingers rose to smother the light snicker that slipped past smug lips.

"I don't recall ever saying those words, Ti. Although since you, like, _brought it up_, he would be quite the monster in bed, yeah? Besides what's that thing you're always blabbing about? Keep your friends close, but, like, keep your enemies closer? Whoever came up with that was _clearly_ an advocate for fucking the enemy."

"The phrase is 'sleeping with the enemy' you vulgar queen, and I'd sooner be fucked by a bear than Braginsky."

Feliks stuck his lower lip out in a playful pout.

"Come _on_ boss, you two would be so sexy together!"

Tino arched a brow at that, disbelief flashing through his eyes.

"What? I bet he could even be _sweet~_," the blonde extended his hands in supplication, fluorescent pink nails entreating Tino's skeptical eyes.

Tino snorted, arms crossed across his chest with the authority of an Egyptian pharaoh.

"I highly doubt that, besides-"

A sharp, perfunctory rap was followed by the guard stepping in just far enough to perform his duty, shoulders stiff and voice monotone, despite Tino's daily efforts to get him to lighten up.

"Sir, there's a...messenger here."

Inquisitive violet flicked over the guard's typical black clinging attire. Tino was not opposed to keeping a few handsome faces around, or bodies for that matter.

"A messenger you say? At," the Finn paused to examine his wristwatch, pushing his smart black cotton sleeve up, "nine thirty in the evening? That sounds grim to me".

Tino questioned the guard with his eyes, an unspoken command that would be foolish to refuse. The guard ducked his head, half in acknowledgment and half in what the Finn took to be mild embarrassment.

"It does not appear to be so, sir".

Tino raised a lone, intrigued brow, quiet eager to have an excuse to push a certain Russian far from his mind.

Alas, t'was not to be.

"And what might this messenger have to say?"

Doubt flitted across his guard's usually unruffled expression.

"Not much, sir. He acts strictly as a delivery boy for this evening." A slight frown tugged on Tino's lips, even as devious curiosity lifted Feliks'.

"Let him in then, no reason to keep him waiting."

The guard nodded in swift acknowledgment and motioned to the courier in the hall. In he shuffled, arms laden with a precarious bundle of fragrant petals.

_Flowers _Tino realized, dozens and dozens of flowers, all in various shapes, sizes, breeds, and colors with one similarity. Quantity. Petals fluttered to the floor with each hesitant step. A choked giggle burbled up past painted lips in the background of Tino's _wary_, _flattered, flushed, panicked, suspicious _thoughts.

The guard offered an expression of business like sympathy, reading the shocked violet eyes with more efficiency and understanding than Tino's own mother.

_Perhaps I shouldn't be cultivating such a close relationship with the guard,_ Tino thought sulkily, fighting to quell the blending sensation of embarrassment and sudden dread that twined about each other to prickle down the length of his neck and writhe about deep in his stomach. He was never one for flattery of any sort and found this excessive display mildly mortifying, particularly in the face of his colleague's sympathy. Strange how childish he could be when he had proven a thousand times over that his innocence had smoldered away in sacrifice to the citizens he felt duty bound to protect, even if that duty was something he had concocted himself. _Duty_ did not seem to stop the rising blush that colored his cheekbones like a kindergartener with an affinity for red crayon.

The messenger in question, face crinkled in quivering concentration as he attempted to infuse it with a respectful façade and not drop his many stemmed package, stepped forward to offer the bundle as if it were a swaddled babe and he an unsure father. Tino, though regarded by some to be the matronly type, simply stared at the disgustingly cheerful flowers, despising the gesture that they represented. He briefly entertained the notion of burying the plants back into the earth from whence they had been raped in an attempt to erase the twisted intent that brought them _almost_ to his arms.

Stiffly, he gestured to the floor. The messenger cast a dubious expression down at the meticulously kept lacquered wood, raising his eyes to meet the still confounded violet ones of the Finnish man standing motionless before him. Hesitant fingers released their hold on the delicate stems, sending a cascade of cellophane and flora to crash onto the floor. The messenger still clutched a flimsy florist's card in the palm of one hand, something that Tino's eyes did not fail to notice. He plucked the card directly from the other's gloved hand, oblivious to or steadfastly ignoring the not quite suppressed shiver that passed through the limb as he did so. He turned away from the gape-fished expression of the messenger and flicked the card open, a frown already thinning his lips with the anticipation of what he knew would be printed in neat handwritten calligraphy.

_I knew you would not refuse. You are a wise man, as am I._

The note was not signed, had no need to be signed as Tino was sure Ivan had intended. _A wise man indeed. _Tino huffed an unamused laugh, the carefree glint in his eyes replaced with darkened steel. Behind him Feliks appraised the situation, taking stock of Tino's souring mood and ushered out the nerve wracked messenger, pink fingernails fluttering not unkindly in a "shoo darling" gesture. Working in harmony around their irate boss, the guard immediately stepped forward, a gentle but insistent hand "guided" the poor thing out and over the threshold. The door closed with a firm snick that reverberated minutely in the still silence that descended upon the room like a cloying perfume. Both Feliks and the guard directed their gazes elsewhere, every cell in their body intent on ignoring the tense, enraged, sickened aura cloaking the smallest man's body. Their steadfast resolve to _not _notice Tino meant they became increasingly aware of him with each passing second the clock screeched out into the silence.

A sigh wafted through the office, stretching weary fingers into the corners, dusting the furniture with wizened exasperation and dissolving the silent atmosphere. Feliks and the guard exchanged a relieved yet worried look. The cheery _clip_ of a heel stole Tino's attention from the now stress lined florist's card as his assistant stepped in to mother the suddenly exhausted Finn. The cross-dresser shook his head at the flicker of comparison that flared to life as he took in his now softly smiling boss. Perhaps he and Ivan were simply too similar to make a good couple. He caught a brief flash of a distraught future in which the two had destroyed themselves with their own power. The blond quickly abandoned the notion and pulled on an easy, comforting smile that hid these troubles. He slipped an arm around slim shoulders and buried his head into the other's neck. He allowed Tino to absentmindedly card his fingers through his hair, rather like a pet comforting his master. The silence grew again, cresting into something comfortable enough for the guard's shoulders to roll forward, releasing a trapped breath.

A slight smile pulled upwards on the edge of Tino's lips, the kind of smile that could be filled with innocent joy or flagrant contempt the way a holographic is two images at once with only one revealed by the tilt of light. Yet when cast at just the right angle, the two pictures blended into a macabre dichotomy, revealing the unchanging element in each, and here the same cold determination brought his lips to life.

Only a fool would tempt such fickle waters.

.::.

Morning rays tickled sleep shut eyelids, winking in and out of existence as the tree outside the window shivered in the slight breeze. The Swede's sun dappled face twitched in discomfort. He stirred slightly, nuzzling the oak stained wood of his desk, the purest face of cherubic innocence. A narrow string of drool sparkled brightly as it was dragged from the shallow pool by his stubbled chin. The sticky wetness seemed to be enough to pull his conscious mind out of the dream world. Bleary blue eyes opened, not entirely comprehending their surroundings, and squinted against the glare of sunlight. A hand came up to swat aside sun rays and instead became tangled with the saliva strand.

"...eughf," Berwald grimaced in disgust, wiping his hand against the wood grain and regaining his senses as his mind geared up for the coming day.

An idea curled about his mind, not yet a thought, but rather a _construct_ of one. It had a taste, _oh_ indeed, _what_ a taste! Bitter like a scolding tongue with an underlying sweetness that was perceived but not actually tasted. It had a smell, something rich and refreshing and utterly_ divine _to his olfactory senses. It sang a siren song of comfort and temptation that curled up like a contented cat deep down in his stomach. Eyes widened in realization as a blush dusted his cheeks. He may not have quite identified this elusive construct of his mind, but he could hardly miss the very prominent, very _hard_ part of his anatomy that was still responding to the vestiges of his dreams that remained adrift in his thoughts. Ephemeral flashes of amethyst against silver, of pale cream and cherry hues swirled amidst the brewing scent of something...something, _something_ he _knew_, something he had smelled before, something that had charmed his tongue into wanting more. The warring, overwhelming images his mind bombarded him with sent surges of ecstasy tingling along his spine to pool like fluid sensuality into that deep, wanting undefinable hollow between gut and groin.

Perhaps not so innocent after all.

Rather than topple into that abyss of release Berwald (and his hand) knew a little_ too_ well, a calm and sudden clarity settled upon him and smoothed the torrent of arousal into two thoughts. The first, _coffee_, instantly had his mouth watering and the second merged together resolving into the form of yesterday's enticing young man.

The Swede groaned again, attempting to shove the clamoring thoughts that rose unbidden at the imagery of those smiling rouge touched lips, skin so pale and so fine it could have been spun from Tampere's snow, celestial silver locks that begged to be caressed and wrenched in passion, and_ oh_ holy mother of _god_ this was _not_ helping his solid predicament. Still groggy, and a bit ashamed by his depraved thoughts, he stumbled out of the chair and into the kitchen to brew up some deliciously refreshing caffeine in his favorite form. He turned from the kitchen, purposefully ignorant of his persistent morning wood, and grabbed a quick change of clothes eager to be in the shower. Cold water sluiced over his skin, jolting his senses out of their lusty fog and sharpening his focus on the day ahead.

Fifteen minutes later found him squeaky clean out the door with a steaming thermos of coffee embraced tightly in one hand. Crisp, winter breath chilled his lungs in a way that made him want to whoop with exhilaration; excited pinpricks danced through his veins tugging a smile out of his lips. The sun glinted off of icicles framing doorways and balconies and the frozen droplets of shower water still clinging to Berwald's hair. It didn't bother him; there wasn't much that _could_ bother him on such a day like this. Today was a day of promise and future and such bundled excitement and nervous anxiety that he could barely stand it. Today he was going to apply to the University of Tampere's Medical School.

Berwald felt as if he was glowing in the intensity of his own excitement, though if the shrinking countenances of the passerbys was anything to go by, perhaps he was glowering instead. No matter, he made his jaunty way without incident to the nearest post office where he could mail his application with the proper procedure and perhaps ask the clerk to point out a breakfast café. Though he loathed to linger on such thoughts, the still simmering sexual release called for a large appetite, and not just for food. The strapping man's eyes dilated in appraisal of the pert, ripe for the picking backside that solicited itself from across the post office's foyer. Unable to see it's owner's face, Berwald was content with settling in behind the man in line, tracing his small, though still toned frame with a molten gaze. A tinkling laugh plucked his attention away from the show stopping ass, making him pause in wonderment at the softness and strange familiarity of it. Gaze suddenly thoughtful, Berwald had little time to react as the other man spun about on his heel to faceplant directly into his chest.

The blond simply blinked down at the smaller man, even as such dream worthy eyes stared in shock up into his own.

.::.

Ink stained fingers smoothed the creases of the envelope, pressing firmly against the glue. It was such a simple thing, standard and unremarkable in every way with the exception of it's contents. Tino marveled at how so ordinary a thing could conceal his contemptuous response to Ivan's intrusive courting gestures. He felt as if the thing needed to be something other than white, perhaps torn around the edges and yellowed with age, something dramatic and reeking of wealth. But no, instead it was boring, nondescript, and about as nontheatrical as could possibly be. Even the address was a printed label, typed up by procrastinating fingers eager to do just about anything other than actual work.

Tino huffed at the letter, expelling little of his pent up frustration and stress. It seemed a night of rest had morphed gut clenching resentment into something more volatile, but less harmless. He was feeling uncharacteristically like a prima donna, and to the duel frustration and amusement of his two faithful companions, was quite acting like one too. He despised falling into these frivolously melodramatic fits, but sometimes the unfairness of life and death simply became too _damn much. _The world could go to hell and suck his dick while he languished in the heat and drank margaritas from coconut shells for all he gave a good god damn. Unfortunately he did give a damn, he gave more than a damn, which was why he pulled his scowling, tight lipped shit together and rose from his desk, intent on mailing his rejection notice with his own hands. With a clipped nod at the guard's stoic demeanor and Feliks' knowing smirk, Tino grabbed his coat and slammed the door shut behind him.

Trotting down the steps of the office building, he pulled on his gloves and set a brisk pace toward the post office. True enough he could send it just as easily from his own mailbox or even with a messenger, but he wanted it express mailed and enjoyed conversing with the attendants. It was important to Tino that his face was seen about town, as Ivan had taken the liberty to point out, he was no fool.

He made his way to the post office, trotting up the stairs and into the building. A woman looked up at his approach, shuffling papers into a neat stack and fairly beaming over her 70's shaped lenses.

"Hello dearie, what can I do for you today?"

"I just wanted to send out this letter by express mail, if it isn't too much of a bother."

"Oh of_ course_ not dearie."

Tino beamed back at her.

"Thank you so very much!"

"Ahto, Tino's here with a letter he wants to mail by express, would you mind-"

Before she could finish, a tall somewhat lanky man with a mop of dirty blonde hair appeared by her side from the recesses of the post office. A pair of gorgeous green eyes peered out at Tino from beneath his fringe, modeled lips quirked up into a shy smile. Ahto handled the letter with utmost care, flitting with it back somewhere into the post office. He reappeared at the edge of a shelf, fiddling with objects while snatching glimpses of Tino while he chit chatted with the post lady. Tino was well aware that the shy Ahto had what seemed to be more than a passing crush on him. He found it charming and sweet, and flashed a dazzling grin in the young man's direction as he waved goodbye and spun about on his heel.

Immediately, he rammed directly into the man who had snuck up behind him in line. Wanting to be angry, Tino stared up at a familiar face.

"Oh...mmm...hello again," Tino bounced back onto his heels, a shy smile sneaking its way to his lips.

* * *

><p>Hope you enjoyed, the next chapter should have more action going on and less setting up for action :P<p> 


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